


Take second best, put me to the test... things on your chest you need to confess

by matthewcyka



Series: emotionally unstable mutant families [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alex summers is not dead because i LOVE him, Crying, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Lehnsherr Has Feelings, Erik is a Sweetheart, Family Feels, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Pietro Maximoff, Hurt/Comfort, Men Crying, Peters a loser but he doesn't care, Peters inner dialogue a lot, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Pietro Maximoff is a Little Shit, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, charles and erik are probably fucking but whatever, dadneto, perhaps i love peter maximoff with my entire heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 17:56:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matthewcyka/pseuds/matthewcyka
Summary: There's nothing you can know that isn't knownNothing you can see that isn't shownThere's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to bePeter is struggling on telling Erik the truth, and honestly, why can't Kurt just do it for him? Peter really doesn't want to break down either
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Charles Xavier, Pietro Maximoff & Kurt Wagner
Series: emotionally unstable mutant families [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477979
Comments: 3
Kudos: 225





	Take second best, put me to the test... things on your chest you need to confess

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song "Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode, and the summary is from "All You Need is Love" by The Beatles. sorry it took me so long to update this story, i am writing this at midnight on a friday because i have nothing better to do. this is also my longest fic so far, though it is only 2208 words!

Peter just wanted to tell Erik; honestly, he couldn't believe that Erik didn't know yet. He was trying to drop hints!

Just small things, and it wasn't like he was ready to say, "Hey Erik! Or should I say dad? Yeah, no biggie, we are related!" Peter would honestly rather throw himself into a black hole.

It wasn't like the topic was even brought up organically, Scott and Jean weren't just saying, "Oh hey guys, do you have absentee fathers? Or is your dad living with you, but he doesn't know it!" Peter can't just bring that up himself either! It'll make him look guilty, or like he is purposely hiding something.

Peter has a twelve-step plan, like in alcoholics anonymous. Except with the fact that he is most definitely not an alcoholic. And no alcohol.

Okay, maybe a little alcohol.

He's Twenty One! He can drink whatever he wants. Back on topic, Peter has a twelve-step plan to let Erik know about their shared genes.

Don't just outright tell him. He needs Erik to connect the dots, and he needs to bring up dumb things like, "Oh yeah, my mom knew you once, I think." You know, he can't say, "What's up dad!"  
Don't be angry. Erik was kind of, well basically a terrorist at the time. So he shouldn't have expected him to drop by and say hi sometimes, Erik probably didn't even know he existed.  
Understand. Erik obviously, well most likely, likes him. He helped him with his broken nose and fucked up leg! So he doesn't hate him?  
Back up plan. Tell Erik. Say something like "What's up bro, guess what, you have a son. His name is me."  
Be prepared. Erik might hate him after this, so he's ready to cry. He will cry for ten years, either way, so he might as well be prepared.  
There are enough numbers; Peter flunked out of high school. This is hard.  
Peter will make sure Erik knows in like, maybe two months? Is that too soon? Or too late? Erik will probably not care, or he will care very much and try to kill Peter. He doesn't know when or which option yet, but Kurt's gonna help him with that.

Ah, yes, Kurt.

Kurt has been very helpful. Kurt even had a full 12 step list! But it had too much mushy stuff in it. Peter is too insecure for that. 

Kurt will help him, or he will get thrown out a window at 10440 mph. He will get defenestrated. 

-

"Peter, just tell him!"

"Kurt, just go die!" Peter mocked, grabbing his walkman and flipping on his music. He heard the faint noise of "Brain Damage" play in his ears before Kurt slapped it out of his hands. Peter watched it clatter on the mansion floor.

"Hey! That is bullying! Professor X said that isn't allowed, so stop breaking the rules while simultaneously breaking my heart," Peter sighed dramatically. Kurt will be the death of him; he knows it.

"I will help you shoplift one-"

"Ooh, I'm in!"

"One peter! I said one, okay?" Kurt emphasized. Peter was going to have a stroke if Kurt repeated himself again, as Peter typically has those.

"Yes, I heard you," Peter mumbled, "now what's in it for you?"

"You take one step closer to telling Erik."

"Nu-uh. No way. No how. No sir-"

"Stop Peter, what step are you on?" Kurt rolled his eyes, obviously very torn up over this. Completely heartbroken.

"Number Three! Do you know what four is Kurt? It is to tell him! I am not joking. I am going to die if I even glance at him!"

"Okay, so we compromise. How about, you talk to him, if it comes up it'll come up," Kurt looked dead in his eyes. Peter couldn't help himself. He wanted some help for once. It was way more fun to steal with friends than by yourself. But maybe he should try and get some leeway.

"Do I have to talk to him? I think I will physically and mentally die at once."

"Either that or no deal," Kurt said, staring Peter down dramatically.

"Okay, fine, deal." 

-

Peter was getting ready to talk to Erik while eating shoplifted Starburst. They did taste good though, even better knowing he didn't pay for them.

Peter was preparing himself. He decided the best way to live up to the agreement was to join everyone for dinner, instead of eating in his room as usual. So no eating Starburst after all.

At the table, in order from left to right, was Scott, Jean, Kurt, Hank, Charles, and Erik.

Of course, the only free spot was next to Erik. Fucking cool!

Peter sat down slowly, taking in the eyes watching him. It was sort of unusual for Peter to eat dinner here. There were spaghetti and meatballs on the table. The first thought in Peter's head was, "Who made this?"

Everyone got food, including Peter. But he was so high strung he hadn't started eating like everyone else. The food looked good, of course, but if he took a bite, he would probably choke and die.

Finally, the conversation started. Well, more like a quiet conversation between Scott and Jean became an argument.

"Scott you aren't even passing science!" Jean scoffed, staring Scott down as he took a drink from his cup. Scott looked like he took physical offense to Jean's statement.

"I am too! How would you even know? You don't know my grades!" Scott whisper yelled to his right, a fake sad expression on his face.

"I read minds dumbass."

'Hey! Charles she's invading my privacy, and she called me a dumbass!" Scott whined, huffing in his seat, looking like a petulant child. In a nice way.

Before Charles could answer, Peter's mouth was running.

"Well, Scott, you are a dumbass. But so is Jean! The perfect couple!" Peter smiled sarcastically in their direction, a small amount of anxiety washing away as he slurped on a noodle. The food was good, by the way.

A small laugh escaped Charles and Erik. Erik laughed at his joke!

"Okay, Jean, don't read Scott's mind without consent. Scott, are you really failing science?" Charles said, a playful smile on his face as he pointed an accusatory finger at the two teenagers.

"He has a C in my class right now, though I don't really blame Jean's accusation," Hank said, chuckling quietly at Scott's betrayed face. 

"Which is not failing, Jean," Scott retorted, smiling again now — ultimately failing to respond to the second half of Hank's response.

"You know, when I actually went to high school, I was semi-smart. My lowest grade was a B-, so I'm sort of Einstein's twin," Peter smiled, brushing his silver hair from his forehead.

"Well, my lowest was an A, and it still is," Jean laughed.

"Yeah, well you didn't go to public school Jean, the only thing that got me through was Alex," Scott said, his fork going to mouth immediately after. A huge grin was visible behind the noodles, though.

"When I was in school, my dad helped me a lot with my homework a lot, usually English because math and science were always very easy," Hank piped up.

"Well, I didn't go to high school, so I can't relate," Erik said, even though it was a severe statement, he was smiling, which caused everyone else to as well.

"My mom sometimes helped, but she mostly had to help my little sister," Peter said, and when he saw a strained look from Kurt, he added, "My dad wasn't around so no help from him, not that it matters though! I'm sure he was doing much more important things."

The adults looked at him quizzically, while the kids laughed at his stuttering and misshapen sentences.

Dinner ended with jokes and conversations, people laughing and messing around. Peter has a large ball of anxiety in his chest, it was crushing his heart, and he wanted to cry. He was a fuck up. Goddammit. He was so anxious, and over what? He slipped up and said some stupid stuff.

Charles seemed to have noticed Peter's distressed face because soon, people were leaving the room at Charles' demand to "Go to Bed."

"Peter," Charles started, "Are you okay?"

The answer seemed easy. Tell the truth: No. My dad is at this table, and he doesn't know that I'm his son! He probably secretly hates me! Lie: Yes! 100% life has never been better.

Erik sat facing both Charles and Peter, a pensive look on his face. Peter wants to say, "Oh yeah. You're my dad, by the way." The words feel natural yet the thought of doing so makes Peter want to die.

It would be so easy, but the words get caught in his throat, and he wants to run. Tears were welling in his eyes, and he knows he'll crash if he doesn't leave, and now.

Crashing is not fun.

Panic attacks aren't fun either, though, especially in front of your secret dad and his probable boyfriend.

"I-" his voice cracks, making him feel small. "I- I-" It almost comes out. He thinks about Erik's response. Maybe he'll hate him. Perhaps he'll hate him extra. 

You're my dad. You are my dad. I am your son. C'mon Peter, spit it out. "Erik- you-"

"You're my dad." The words spill out fast. Peter feels the anxiety leave him, making his shoulders sag down. But it is soon replaced with panic. 

Oh God. 

Did he just say that? Erik Lehnsherr wanted terrorist, Magneto, X-man, is his father. And he just told him.

Peter wants to vomit. Can God please smite him right this very second, please.

"What?" The single word legitimately stopped Peter's brain from working. 

The second it started up again, Peter fucking bolted. He stood up normally, pushing his chair back with force. When he fucking saw the look of turmoil on Erik's face, his decision was made.

He threw himself out of that room, racing as fast as ever, collecting his stuff and booking it out of the mansion. He ran, his feet slapping the pavement of the basketball court, then the gravel running path, the dewy grass, and finally, he reached the muddy ground of the woods.

The woods were located behind the mansion. He stopped running and slammed his brakes. He breathes, leaning down against the trunk of a tree. Small sobs were caught in his throat as he sunk down into the mud, not caring for his clothing. He breathed shallowly and tried to calm the overwhelming panic blooming across his entire body. 

Oh God.

Fat tears rolled down his face, and he buried his face in his jacket. His shoulders shook with hard tremors that passed through him. He sobbed quietly, curling into himself even more.

God, why did he make that stupid fucking plan? 

Erik should have never known. He probably hates him, because who would want a stupid high school dropout as a kid? Peter has never accomplished anything significant in his life, even with being an X-Man, he failed with Apocalypse. He broke his leg and was useless for the entire battle. He couldn't do anything useful. Ever.

Peter Maximoff, fuck-up extraordinaire. 

-

He couldn't calm down. His breath was fast and uneven. He'll never be able to return to the mansion. 

He heard steps coming towards him, crunching sticks and leaves beneath their feet. He honestly hoped it was some murderer that decided Peter looked like a tasty snack.

"Peter?"

Of fucking course, it couldn't be Charles or Kurt. Or even fucking Scott would have been better. It was Erik. Erik was a foot away from Peter, ten or so minutes after he confessed to being his son. Cool.

"Yes?" Peter questioned sarcastically, his voice raw and scratchy. He sounded like someone who has smoked for 50 years.

"Are you okay?" Erik asked, clearly unsure of his place at the moment. He walked close enough so he could lay a comforting hand on Peter's tense shoulder blade, squeezing slightly.

Peter indistinctively leaned into the touch, hoping for a semblance of comfort from his dad. 

"I'm good, why do you ask," Peter asks, a small smile forming on his lips. Not that Erik would have noticed. Peter has opted for the decision to ignore the fact that he ever made the confession in the first place.

"Peter," Erik says lightly, obviously choosing to be serious about it. Okay, cool, Peter can deal with that.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Erik answered quickly, quite forcefully. "Is it true though? I have to ask."

"...yes," Peter mumbled, forcing himself to look up into Erik's eyes. "It's true."

Erik didn't say anything this time; he just sat down next to Peter and wrapped ana rm around his shoulders. Peter automatically threw his arms around Erik as well, the need for comfort too strong than his pride. 

Peter's sobs were loud and clear now. He buried himself in his father's arms and didn't stop. Erik had some silent tears running down his face, not that he would admit that. Peter just sat there, panic gone. Replaced with a feeling of slight happiness and sadness, but overall, hope.


End file.
